Into You (28 page)

On the outside I looked somewhat composed. On the inside I felt like my body was going into convulsions. My heart ached. As if a bear had come along and mauled me, Carter vic
iously ripped apart my insides.

This was nothing like Mason. This was a hundred times worse. I wanted to drop on the floor and crumple into a ball, but I wouldn't. I couldn't. Not in front of her.

"If you'll excuse me, there's a bar a few blocks away. If I know Carter, he's there tying one on. I think I'll head in that direction and see if I can comfort him." Jamie smiled her mean, nasty smile at me. Funny how she could switch gears from grieving wife, to woman wronged, to seductress in the blink of an eye.

That left me alone with Albert. "Y
ou didn't tell him everything."

"You know I'm not allowed. Steven was very clear about that."

"Yes, but he wasn't planning on dying that night. He never thought the will would be read before we were married."

"I can't h
elp the way events played out."

"Dr.
Penbrook was afraid Carter would give the money away. That's why he did this, that's what he tried to prevent."

"Elizabeth, this is a legal document. I c
an't just change it on a whim."

Tears stung my eyes; none of this was supposed to happen. Carter and I were supposed to get married and live happily ever after. Instead he ha
ted me, and I lost him forever.

"Fine."
It was my turn to sniffle. "Then you need to help him set up a non-profit organization,"

"I don't know if there will be enough time . . ."

"You need to follow the spirit of what Dr. Penbrook wanted. Figure out some way for that money to go to Carter, because I'm telling you right now, there's not going to be a wedding and in the event he gets screwed, I'm coming after you."

He took a long breath. "I'll see what I can do. I'm guessi
ng you drove here with Carter."

I nodded.

"How about I give you a ride home?"

*

I didn't go back for the evening viewing. I didn't care how it looked, I just couldn't stand by and watch Carter glare at me. The way he looked at me in the vestibule, I'd never seen so much hate and anger in his eyes. Not even toward Jamie.

I left Carter a message asking him to call me, to text me, just to let me know he was okay. All I got was silence. I considered going to his house, but I needed to give him time to cool off. If I was honest with myself, the real reason I didn't make a move to go to Carter was fear. I knew how he got over Jamie and was afraid to find he wasted no time in moving
on.

It didn't matter if he let me explain or not, he wasn't going to believe me. After what I saw between Carter and Joanna Shields I tried to tell myself it was for the best. Kids who were abused tended to abuse, and people that were cheated on tended to cheat. I wasn't convincing, not even to myself.

While I kept telling myself I didn't want to talk to him, my heart leapt with anticipation every time my phone rang, or alerted me to a text message. I didn't care how he communicated, as long as he did. But each time I got my hopes up, they dropped hard and fast.

Each day I thought the worst was over. That with tomorrow and the promise of a new day the pain would ease, but it didn't. It only got worse. How could someone that loved me so much hurt me so bad?

I tried not to think of Carter, not to dwell on the ache and emptiness he left behind, but I couldn't help it. He invaded my thoughts the same way he'd taken over my life. Everywhere I looked, everything I touched reminded me of him.

I bailed on Sunday dinner. I told my parents about Dr.
Penbrook’s passing, but I couldn't bring myself to tell them what happened with Carter. It didn't matter anyway; he was now a non-issue for them.

The next Saturday night my doorbell rang. I stepped on my toes and almost fell face first as I raced to the door in the hopes Carter was on the other side. In the time it took me to get there, I imagined he'd look just as worn and hurt as I did. He'd take one look
at me and pull me in his arms.

I held my breath as I pulled the door open, and felt my body sag as the oxygen seeped from my lungs. Carter didn't stand there, my sister and parents did. I couldn't hold it together anymore. I let the tears fall freely. My mother, her arms full of packages handed them off to my father and
took me in her arms.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

Violet must have told her. She was the only person I'd been in contact with since Carter walked out on me. She offered to come spend the weekend with me, but I wanted to be alone. I hoped to gather enough courage to face him. To force him to listen. Even if he didn't want anything more to do with me, I wanted to plant the seed of truth in his head with the hopes that it might somehow grow into something more.

My mother used the groceries she'd brought over to cook dinner, a simple salad and pasta dish. That forced me to sit in the living room and talk to my father and Violet.

"And you wanted to marry him? Isn't it better you see how unreasonable he is now before you found yourself saddled down with kids?" my father asked.

"Dad, please, you don't understand. You don't have the full picture."

"I don't need to. You're my daughter, so of course
you're
right." The playful look in his eyes told me he was kidding. I wasn't in the mood for bad jokes.

"This is one of the few times where there is no right or wrong," I explained. "He thinks I was unfaithful to him, and I can understand why."

My father's brows furrowed as he leaned toward me. "Were you?"

"Of course not!"
I squealed. "It's just his father left me a lot of money."

Now my father was looking at me like I was a whore. Or maybe it was the guilt of being with Mason that had me feeling like the men in my life were looking at me through the stained lens of a kaleidoscope.

My father shook his head "Why would his father leave you anything?"

And so it began, hours of reliving every moment of our relationship... the revelation that I'd been working for Carter’s father… how their relationship fell apart. I confessed everything to my parents. How I tried to convince Carter to mend fences, and how his father, thankful for what I'd done, wanted only to see u
s well cared for in the future.

"He wanted to leave it all to Carter, but since Carter had been rejecting him for years, he was afraid Carter would turn around and give it all away to a charity."

"Why not give it to Carter's mother, why you?"

"Two reasons. He knew I'd make sure Carter used the money to open the center and make it a reality. He believed in Carter's dream."

"What's the other reason?" my mother asked.

"We started talking about children. Carter wanted me to stay home when we had kids, and I wasn't comfortable with that idea. I didn't want to wake up one day alone and responsible for a family, with no way to support them. His father wanted me to feel secure, like I had something to fall back on so I'd have no reason not to stay home."

"Maybe if you explain. . ." my mother started.

And the tears I thought I'd run out of returned.

"Hello," Violet intervened, "That's the problem; he won’t talk to her. He won’t listen."

"The worst part of it all is that if we're not married, or in the process of planning our wedding, I don't get anything. The money goes to a charity. I don't care about me, but this was supposed to all be for him."

"Okay, so you need a non-profit to donate the money to?"

I let out a frustrated breath. "I want it to go to him." The tears and sobs came in an uncontrollable wave. "Even though he hates me, I still love him. I want him to be happy."

My father's brows went up, and I could tell he wasn't all that happy about what I was saying. "You're sure about that?"

I nodded with a sniffle. "Positive."

"Before you chose to drop your bomb on Christmas, I'd been quite impressed with Carter. I liked his ideas and thought what he wanted to do was admirable."

I felt the blank look on my face. Where was he going with this?

"Years ago when a lot of my clients were making money hand over fist, we set up a non-profit so some of them in need of a tax cut could donate. The organization is committed to benefitting children in need. The need isn't specific, and I thought of reaching out to some people I know to see if they'd be interested."

"Did you?"

"And you're supposed to be the smart one," Violet chimed in. "Don't you get it brainiac? He's saying you could funnel the money through his charity."

I looked at my father, afraid to believe it. I wanted it to be true. I wanted to at least make
this
right in Carter's life.

"It's not my charity, but since the money isn't really ours anyway, it shouldn't be a problem to get the other board members to agree."

I jumped up and threw my arms around his neck like I did when I was a little girl. "Thank you so much, Daddy."

"I want to see you happy."

"Dad, you need to promise me something."

"What's that, Princess?"

"He can't know I have anything to do with this."

"Beth, he should know what you're willing to do . . ."

"Promise me."

My father stared at me for a long time before agreeing. When he did, I jumped up and called Albert Brooks. I didn't care that it was a Sunday; I wanted to be sure we got this moving as fast as possible.

Chapter 64

Carter

I thought it was going to be a good day, the first one I had in a month, when I got the phone call from the Hearts for Kids Foundation. They not only wanted to give me the funding I needed, they wanted to make sure I had a cushion for unexpected expenses and payroll. I didn't plan on quitting my job outright, just cutting back on my hours initially, but it was good to know the money was there.

I fought the urge to call Elizabeth. I wanted to share the good news with someone, and she was at the top of that list. She was the only one on that list. But we hadn't spoken since the wake. So many nights I lie in bed wishing we could go back in time, but it was too late, I fucked up. Somewhere along th
e line I wasn't enough for her.

Maybe I pushed too hard, too fast. Maybe talking about kids scared
her and she felt like she couldn't come to me. I just didn't see it coming. I thought she was all in, the way I was. Now that some time passed and I knew I was never going to get over her, I'd be willing to hear her out. But I couldn't bring myself to call. If I were her I'd never want to hear from me again. And I couldn't handle outright rejection from her.

I was just grateful the call came when it did. My life was so empty since we broke up, my prospects so bleak, I almost called Joanna. I shuddered at the thought. Unlike when it ended with Jamie, I didn't want to get lost in anyone else. I didn't want to be with anyone but Elizabeth. And alcohol didn't numb me; it mad
e the emptiness darker, deeper.

I didn't expect to come home and find that she'd been there, in my house, the house we were supposed to share. I ran my hand through my hair thinking I was imagining things. The faint scent of her strawberry shampoo lingered in the air. My heart picked up speed, and for the briefest moment, I thought everything was going to work itself out.

"Elizabeth?" I called out. "Honey, are you here?"

There was no re
sponse, just deafening silence.

I ran to the bedroom. Not that I expected to find her waiting in bed for me, although I'd have donated a kidney for that! But the few things she left behind, her hairbrush and
perfume, were in the bathroom attached to bedroom.

There was no sign of her. Not even her scent lingered in the bedroom. Of course she wouldn't need the brush or the perfume after a month. She probably replaced them right away. Why did I let myself get so angry? I should've listened to her. I should've called her back after I cooled off. Why was I stupid enough to let her go in the first place?

"Elizabeth!" I called again as I made my way to the kitchen.

It was empty, save the furniture and appliances. I pulled a chair from the table to sit down. That's when I saw it. I don't think she could've hurt me more if she brought a knife down and cut my dick off. Right in the middle of the table were her engagement ring, the key to my house and a post-it note.

I couldn't move. The ring made it real. She moved on. I was just a memory. Everything we had, all of our dreams, they were gone.

After a long while, maybe minutes, maybe hours, I picked up the ring and twirled it between my fingers. Flashbacks from the day I bought it rushed to my mind. I squeezed my eyes closed trying to lose the images. Instead they were replaced with memories of her sitting on Santa's lap and opening her gift. The light and happiness in her eyes convinced me that anything was possible as long as we were together.

Part of me felt like while she still had the key and ring, there was still a grain of hope for us. Not now. I picked up the post-it note ready to crumple it and toss it in the trash. But I couldn't. I had to see what she wrote.